My Life's a Joke
by JP McClendon
Summary: The Joker is dead, but that doesn't mean Harley is free of him. As long as he holds a piece of her soul, she'll never know peace. WARNING! This story deals heavily with the abusive nature of their relationship and may be uncomfortable for some readers. WIP. Please R&R!
1. Prologue: Restless Night

**Author's note:** I do not own Harley Quinn, the Joker, or any character in the DC Universe. The only characters I own are those created for this fanfiction. Also, this fanfiction contains scenes of abuse and assault and abusive dialogue that some people might find upsetting. I in no way condone such things.

 **Prologue: Restless Night**

It was a late mid-summer night in Gotham City and Doctor Harleen Quinzel, aka Harley Quinn, was trying to get some sleep. It had taken a few years, but her life as Harley Quinn was officially over as far as everyone in the city was concerned, even the Batman, though he did stop in on her from time-to-time to see how she was holding up. The Joker was gone. Dead and gone. Harleen seemed happier than the Batman over the fact, which some people still found strange. Tonight, the heat was intense, despite the late hour. Harleen had her bedroom window wide open to try and let in any sort of breeze since her air-conditioner had broken down earlier in the week and Harleen had been too busy with work to go out and get a new one. Despite the fact that Gotham had a terrible crime rate, Harleen wasn't worried about leaving her windows open. In fact, she could leave her front door open and she wouldn't have any worries. Everyone in Gotham knew exactly where she lived and everyone in Gotham knew exactly who she was, or rather, used to be. The criminal element left her alone either because of her past relationship with the Joker or because they knew that even without him she was a force to be reckoned with on too many levels to make bothering her worth it. In the end, Harleen was safe and that suited her just fine. Of course, she didn't use this position of safety for any dubious purposes. Harley Quinn was dead, just as dead as the Joker. Doctor Harleen Quinzel just wanted to get on with her life.

The heat was really taking its toll, despite the open window. Harleen had gone to bed wearing only an old thin t-shirt and a pair of panties and had long since kicked the blankets off the bed. Nothing was easing the unrest the heat had brought on. After looking at the clock on her night stand and seeing the lateness of the hour, she had begun to seriously ponder either taking a cold shower or standing naked in front of her open freezer. Both options were better than just lying in bed, tossing and turning. Finally, she decided that the cold shower was the more sensible of her two options and got out of bed. Without any hesitation, she stripped out of what little she was wearing and walked off nude down the hall to her bathroom.

"Ow," she said in a tone that was barely above a whisper when she turned on the light in the bathroom and practically blinded herself. After a few seconds of letting her eyes adjust to the sudden brightness, she pulled back the shower curtain, grabbed the knob for the shower's cold water, and turned it on as high as it would go. As she ran her fingers through the water, a sudden noise in another room in her apartment caused her head to snap towards the door. Had someone actually broken into her apartment, she thought. Cautiously, she walked back towards the doorway and stuck her head out into the hall to look around. Nothing, not a single bit of movement or sound. "Must have been my imagination." With that, she went back to her shower, stepped into the tub, and put herself fully under the showerhead's cold spray. A cold shudder instantly hit her and for a few seconds she felt as though there was no air in her lungs. Her discomfort soon gave way to relief from the unbearable heat.

After only a minute, Harleen reached for the knob and turned it off. There was silence, save for the dripping from the showerhead and the water circling the drain. After a brief pause to watch the water drain away, she pulled open the shower curtain, stepped down onto her bathmat, grabbed a towel, and began to dry herself off. As she ran her towel over her body to dry herself, her attention was drawn to a few old scars in various places on her body that had come as a result of her life of crime. She knew exactly how she had gotten each and every one of them, and unlike some criminals in Gotham, she wasn't proud of any of them. They were a painful reminder of a life she didn't ask for, a life she was done with, and a life she certainly never wanted to go back to. She closed her eyes and silently muttered a reassuring mantra to herself. After doing this a couple of times, she returned to drying herself off. When she was done, she wrapped her towel around herself, grabbed another towel, and dried her hair. Once she was satisfied with the job she had done, she folded up the towel she had used on her hair and neatly hung it back on the rack where she had gotten it. After turning out the light, she walked out of her bathroom and back towards her bedroom, hoping that she'd finally be able to get some sleep. After only a few paces, a powerful gloved hand clamped over her mouth from behind while a powerful arm wrapped around her waist, picked her up off of the ground, and carried her towards her bedroom. She gave a startled scream that was almost completely muffled by the hand over her mouth. Desperately, she tried to throw some sort of blow with her elbows back towards her unknown assailant, but she couldn't find her mark. Once inside her bedroom, her assailant threw her down onto her bed and straddled her legs to pin her down.

"Get the fuck offa me, you creep!" she screamed at her attacker. Though she couldn't see his face in the darkness, she could see him smile a wide toothy smile at her. Then he reached over and turned on the light. Harleen gasped. It was him. It was the Joker.

"Harley!" he exclaimed as he beamed at her with one of his signature crazed smiles. "Is that any way to talk to your 'Puddin''?"

"No!" she shouted. "You can't be him! You can't be here! The Joker's dead. Dead and rotting in Hell where he belongs!"

"Sorry to disappoint you, Harley," said the Joker as he grabbed Harleen's wrists and pinned them above her head. "I'm not gone."

A look of pure terror came across Harleen's face. The Joker smiled at her again, let go of her wrists with one hand while using the other to keep them pinned, and grabbed for some barbed wire that was attached to her headboard. A predatory glint came to his eyes and his smile widened. Without a word, he wrapped the barbed wire around her wrists. Harleen screamed for help but was given a fierce slap to silence her. For an instant, everything went blurry and she saw stars. Once her vision returned her eyes instantly focused on him. His smile had become cruel and he wagged a finger at her. "Tsk, tsk, tsk," he said almost playfully. "You need to keep quiet or you'll disturb the neighbors."

"Please," she begged as tears formed in her eyes. "Just let me go."

"No," he said flatly as he tested her restraints. When he was done, he traced his fingers down her arms to her towel. His touch was almost sensual.

"How are you not dead?" sobbed Harleen, hating every moment of her agony.

"It's all thanks to you, dear Harley," he said with a leering smile as he let one of his index fingers trace her skin just above the border of her towel. "I'm inside of you. As long as I am, I'll never be gone. Speaking of being inside of you…"

Harleen whimpered as he let his obscene innuendo trail off. The Joker's smile widened. As he did so, he forcefully pulled open her towel and yanked it away before tossing it to the floor. Then, all at once, he was on her. His lips and teeth were on her neck, his hands lewdly groping her.

"Please stop," she sobbed. "I don't want this."

The Joker straightened up and looked at her. For an instant he looked as though her pleas had gotten through to him. Then his smile returned and he withdrew a straight razor. "I would have thought by now, Harley," he began as he opened the straight razor. "That you'd have realized that what you want doesn't matter. It never has. It never will."

For the rest of the night, he worked her over in various terrible and tortuous ways. Her every bit of misery gave him joy and fueled his brutality. Though she told him no aloud, a part of her that she thought she had buried deep down inside of her was happy because he was giving her his undivided attention, cruel though it was.

Just before dawn, when she thought she could take no more of his abuse, the Joker smiled one last time and, with the skilled hands of a surgeon, drew his straight razor across her throat. As she lay there, bleeding out, all she could see and hear was him laughing at her.

 **To be continued…**


	2. A New Day Has Come

**A New Day Has Come**

Harleen sat bolt upright, her hand grabbing at her throat. Once the realization set in that last night had just been another nightmare, she let out a deep sigh of relief. The fact that she was once more in her t-shirt and panties served as further proof that last night didn't happen. With a shudder, she pulled her legs up to her chest and rocked herself. "He really is gone," she said, her voice a whisper. "He can't hurt me like that anymore."

Her statement seemed to give her strength and confidence, and the ball she had curled herself into loosened. A great sigh of release escaped her lips and she wished this feeling of hope and safety would never end. Then, all at once, her alarm clock went off and jostled her from her peace.

"Shit," she muttered as she uncurled fully from her ball and reached over to her nightstand to shut off her alarm. "Reality's a bitch too."

With that, she stood up on her bed and stretched. Afterwards, she cracked her neck forcefully and rolled her shoulders. Then, she did an acrobatic roll off her bed to the floor and up onto her feet all in one swift motion.

 _"I see you've kept up your physical regime,"_ said the Joker. Harley looked around and saw his image in the full-length mirror in the corner of her room. The Joker smiled and gave her a wave.

"Shut up," Harleen hissed as she peeled off her night clothes and threw them at the hamper. Then she turned around and headed for the hallway to the bathroom.

 _"Still no carpeting on the floor to compare the drapes to I see,"_ he said now from next to the door to her bedroom. _"Is that for you? Or is there someone special in your life you do that for?"_

"Fuck off!" Harleen seethed as she walked past him and out of the room. "You're going to make me late for work!"

She walked into the bathroom and past him again as he stood next to her towel rack. As in her dream, she pulled back the shower curtain, grabbed the knobs, and turned on the water. As she was in this position, she could feel his hand roaming brazenly over her ass. "You don't have permission to do that," she warned. He didn't reply, but merely gave her ass a slap. Instantly, her cheeks flushed with anger.

While waiting for the water to get to the desired temperature, she turned to the sink and set about brushing her teeth. He just stood close behind her. _"I think this is the quietest I've ever seen you,"_ he joked. _"At least other than when I've got your mouth occupied with other activities."_

Harleen spit into the sink and glared at him in the mirror. "I'm gettin' tired of you teasin' me," she said, her voice losing some of the proper diction she had developed in her journey to leave Harley Quinn behind. He smiled and took a step back from her. Once she was finished brushing her teeth, she checked the water in the shower to make sure it was how she liked it. A smile crossed her face. It was perfect. Quickly, she stepped into the shower, closed the curtain and immersed herself fully under the water, and let her mind drift away. A pair of hands suddenly drew her backwards and out from under the showerhead. The hands then began to roam over her body, eagerly exploring every last inch of her. All at once the hands were rough and gentle.

As the hands curled over her breasts, Harleen could feel his breath on her ear. _"You belong to me,"_ he whispered softly but menacingly to her. Then one of his hands travelled down between her legs and gripped her tightly. Harleen couldn't help but gasp at his touch. _"And I do what I like."_

With that he spun her about, kissed her roughly on the lips and pushed her back against the wall. She knew she should resist him, but right now she couldn't. Before she could think any further, he lifted her up and pushed himself into her. Harleen was in ecstasy. _"If anyone else ever dares to put their hands on you I'll kill you both!"_ he warned. In a flash of light, she was alone in the shower and instantly aware that she was touching herself.

"Damn!" she exclaimed as she stopped what she was doing and grabbed the soap. "He would leave me hangin'!"

After quickly finishing her shower, she stepped out and dried herself with the towel she had used in her dream. She then wiped the mirror over the sink and stared at herself for a long time. "I can't have any distractions at work today," she said. Opening the medicine cabinet, she plucked out a large bottle of pills. Though she had some difficulty dealing with the child-proof cap at first, she finally got the cap off and tapped two capsules into her hand. She thrust them into her mouth, filled a glass with water, and eagerly gulped the water and her pills down.

 _"I'll be here waiting for you,"_ he said as he faded away, his voice hollow and ghost-like. _"You can't keep me away with those pills forever."_

"I'll settle for right now," Harleen said with an air of victory in her voice. Like that, he was gone. "No more of your quips and distractions today. Now to get to ready for work."

 **To be continued…**


End file.
